


Cat’s Body, Dragon’s Soul

by Dracolis



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alfiq (Elder Scrolls), Going to be a late update I’m not feeling great right now sorry, I Tried, Main character is based on a calico Turkish Angora cat, My First Fanfic, if Khajiit can even look like that, if they can’t I’m sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28360884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracolis/pseuds/Dracolis
Summary: Ko’ila the Alfiq was born with an insatiable curiosity. Things lost to time were her obsession; old ruins, historical artifacts, lost knowledge, undiscovered magics, that sort of thing. So when a returning caravan brings news of the strange ruins and fascinating history of the land of Skyrim, Ko’ila leaves home to begin an adventure in the cold land to experience this place for herself. She quickly finds out she is way out of her element in the new land, but makes quite a few strange friends. But when she discovers she is the Dragonborn of legend, things only get much stranger. Either fate has made some kind of mistake, or she has a much grander destiny in store for her, and she may become the first Alfiq to be famed across Tamriel.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. The Disaster At Helgen

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just:  
> What would happen if the Last Dragonborn were a Khajiit the size of a housecat?  
> The answer: shenanigans
> 
> The story will mostly follow the main questline with quite a few twists, but it will jump to both the DLC storylines at certain points. The College of Winterhold questline will also have a part in this, but not until a bit later because the story starts in Helgen.  
> More characters will be added to the tags as they appear in the story.
> 
> This is my first real work, and I’m hoping to use this fic to train my author skills. If you have a comment to add, all feedback is appreciated; I’d like to get an idea of what I’m doing well and what I need to work on. Also I kind of suck at learning other languages, so no matter how much I try my Dovahzul is sometimes a mess. Feel free to correct my translations if you catch something that’s off.
> 
> I’m anxious and trying.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ko’ila begins her journey in Skyrim, hoping for passage to the College of Winterhold to get answers to some of her questions. Things do not go as planned, and she bears witness to the destructive power of Alduin the World-Eater.

“Pardon, sir?”

“Yes? How can I...”

The carriage driver looked around, searching for the one who’d spoken. There was no one in sight.

“Down here, sir.”

He looked down in the direction of the voice, and found a most peculiar creature. Although similar to a house cat in both form and stature, the creature looking up at him was clad in a coiled blue scarf and golden jewelry!

“This one would like to ask for passage to Winterhold, please.”

Although confused, the driver tried to cover it with his normal business attitude.

“Of course. Climb aboard... miss?”

“Just Ko’ila is fine, sir.”

She leapt up into the back of the carriage, and the driver signaled his horse to begin to walk. Her journey had begun.

***

Ko’ila watched the trees go past as the clacking of the carriage horse’s hooves hit the stones of the road in quick repetition. The driver tried to make pleasant conversation with her, but he couldn’t hide the layer of confusion in his voice. He had revealed his name to be Halven, and she was glad to be around friendly company instead of the bandits she’d met before.

Not that she was surprised by his confusion. Most people in Skyrim knew only about the Cathay Khajiit, and even then only a little about them. Very rarely did anyone know about her breed, the Alfiq. Even though it was rare for them to leave Elsweyr, there were a few Alfiq adventurers. Ko’ila herself had come to Skyrim in search of treasure and knowledge, and to make a name for herself. Alfiq rarely became famous, and were often content where they were. But not her. She had always had an adventurous spirit and quite a bit of wanderlust, and a good deal of curiosity about the old ruins that dotted Skyrim’s landscape.

“Where are you from, Halven?”

“I’m from Ivarstead, just east of the mountain the Graybeards call home. Sometimes we bring provisions to them up in their monastery, but lately folks have found the climb to be much harder. Wolves have been watching the path, and I’ve heard a troll has begun hunting there. I’ve never climbed the Seven Thousand Steps myself, and I don’t think my knees could make the climb. Horses and travel are my life. Just horses and travel, and I’m glad for it.”

“Are there really seven thousand steps?”

“I don’t think anyone’s really counted them, but supposedly there are. What about you, Ko’ila? Where are you from?”

“This one’s home is in Elsweyr. Ko’ila’s parents are cloth merchants, and her mother taught her to weave very early, but her heart has always yearned for adventure. Ko’ila had heard of Skyrim’s ruins and the wealth of history to be found inside from a returning trade caravan, and left home as soon as she was old enough. This one still writes to her family often. She misses them, but has never regretted her choice.”

The conversation continued. After she had told him that she was a Khajiit, he had been very interested to learn more about the different forms her people could take based on the phases of the moons. She in turn got to learn more about the culture of the land she was now traveling, and learned that Halven had a wife named Frarica and two children: a son and a daughter.

“Look there,” Halven said, during a break in the conversation, “those buildings over there are at the edge of Helgen. I’d like to stop and rest my horse for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Ko’ila replied, “it’s an honorable thing, to think of your horse’s wellbeing. This one is in no hurry.”

Halven turned the reins to guide his horse towards the crossroads leading to Helgen. But he had to pull his horse to a stop, as there were other carts on the road. A group of three other horse-carts and several mounted riders were passing by on the road towards Helgen. What interested Ko’ila was that all the mounted riders, drivers, and guards wore the distinct red of Imperial soldiers. The others in the back of the carts wore mostly blue armor, and were quite obviously guarded prisoners. But a few among the group of blue-clad men were a man wearing ragged green, and a woman wearing armor made from leather.

“Looks like the Empire must have caught some of the Stormcloaks. Makes sense they’d be taking them to Helgen. It’s an Imperial outpost, now,” Halven said.

“Who are the Stormcloaks?” Ko’ila asked him.

“I guess it’s not surprising you haven’t heard of the Stormcloak rebellion, if you’ve only just arrived in Skyrim. The Empire In Cyrodiil recently banned the worship of Talos in Skyrim, and some of its people decided to rebel. I don’t know much of the details, but I know it started with the White-Gold Concordat, a treaty the Empire made with the Thalmor to stop the war. The Empire wasn’t really enforcing the ban in regards to private worship of Talos, but now they’ve gotten harsher after the rebellion started.”

Ko’ila hummed a thoughtful note. She watched the last horseman pass, and Halven started his cart-horse walking again. She noticed he respectfully kept a considerable distance from the soldiers, and veering to the side towards the stables on the outskirts. He leapt down from the driver’s seat, and walked up to pat his horse’s back. He muttered soothing words to her, and began to unhitch her from the cart. He called a stable boy over, asking that he prepare some feed and fresh water. Ko’ila leapt down from the back of the wagon.

“Ko’ila wishes to follow the soldiers. This one wants to know more about this land’s recent events, to guess what effect they might have on her own business here. Ko’ila will return shortly.”

“Best of luck, friend. It might be best if you kept your distance from the Thalmor; they’ve got a nasty reputation, and it’s well earned.”

“Ko’ila will try her best. Thank you, Halven.”

With that, she stepped away from the wagon and walked towards the inside of the city. She did not want to deal with the whole being-mistaken-for-a-cat thing right now, so she climbed up the wooden wall with her claws. Walking from post to post, she looked around for a good place to watch or someone she might be able to ask her questions to. The man in ragged clothes bolted away from the other prisoners, obviously hoping to make his escape. But he would not be so fortunate, as he was quickly shot down by the Imperial archers.

Ko’ila leapt down from the fence and walked towards the gathering of people. She had come across gold-clad Altmer, and could only guess they were the Thalmor. She had never had dealings with them herself, but she had certainly heard about them, and what she heard was not pretty. So she decided it would be best not to cross paths with any of them, and hid herself when one approached. Carefully, she moved closer towards where the carts were now stopped. A yellow-robed priestess was giving the present prisoners their last rights, but one of the Stormcloaks strode forward instead.

“For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!”

Ko’ila had to look away as the Stormcloak warrior was beheaded. She was fine with bloodshed, but dismemberment like that made her stomach turn. Preparing caught prey for eating was different than cutting off other people’s body parts as a form of punishment. When she turned her eyes back to the assembly in front of her, the only Imperial present who wore no helmet was adressing the frantic-eyed Breton. Her eyes locked on Ko’ila, and the girl’s confusion was tempered with quite a bit of curiosity. Ko’ila often noticed subtle changes in looks given to either or or others. Although she was often no good at games of wordplay, she was excellent at reading body language. This Breton girl was scared and confused. The Imperial said she was not on the list. Good Alkosh, would she be executed for something she didn’t even do?

Ko’ila ran forward to speak to the man with the list. Surely he could clear this up; surely some kind of trial had to have happened before this. Some kind of sentence had to have been passed. Surely she could at least get a few answers.

A loud roar echoed over the mountains, and just as Ko’ila reached the group of prisoners, two things happened at once.

First, the Breton girl was shoved to the ground, at the mercy of the headsman, who readied his great axe for the lethal swing.

Second, an enormous black dragon swooped down from the sky to land on the tower!

“Dragon!”

The woman’s cry mirrored the thought that likely went through the minds of everyone present. Ko’ila leapt into action, jumping for cover and flattening herself to the ground as soon as the dragon began calling down meteors from the sky. Was such a power even possible? Her curiosity began to rise, muting her fear. But she stayed under the wooden porch as she looked for a better place to hide.

The silver-haired Breton girl followed the blonde Stormcloak into one of the towers, and barred the door behind them. No going in there, then. She noticed the same Imperial from before calling to a young boy, beckoning him to safety. But the child had turned around, and froze in fear as the black dragon landed before him, embers building in its throat as it prepared to incinerate him!

Ko’ila leapt forward and sprinted as fast as she could towards the group of soldiers, launching herself at the nearest archer’s shoulders once she got close enough. Using the momentum to ricochet towards the boy, she struck his shoulder and pushed him to the ground behind some debris. And just soon enough. The dragon unleashed its fiery breath, scorching any of the soldiers who had not made it behind cover. The stones blocked Ko’ila and the boy from the worst of it, but the heat of the flame rushing overhead only showed just how close it had been.

The beating of wings signaled the dragon had taken off again. Ko’ila stood up, brushing her paws over the boy’s shoulder where she had shoved him as she called on her healing magic. She had kept her claws sheathed, but there was still a lot of force in the leap and he could have been scraped by the fall.

The boy’s eyes were as wide as the moons as he sat up and watched her work. The Imperial soldier came over, calling the boy’s name. Haming, his name was Haming. When he saw what Ko’ila was doing, he froze in shock.

“What...are you?”

“Ko’ila is an Alfiq Khajiit. Her form is small, but her mind is as sharp as any other of her kin’s. Is there no other way out of here, besides the gates?” She tilted her head in the direction of the gates, which were burnt to a crisp and blocked by flaming debris. There would be no escape that way. Alkosh, let Halven be all right!

“There might be a way out through the keep. Gunnar,” he turned over to one of the soldiers behind him, “take care of Haming. I’m going to find General Tullius.”

“Gods guide you, Hadvar.” Ah, so his name was Hadvar.

“Ko’ila wishes to help. She is a gifted mage, perhaps her talents could be put to use with your own mages?”

Hadvar gave her a surprised, somewhat doubting look, but did not question her abilities. He helped Haming to his feet, and after ensuring the boy was safe, began heading in the direction of most of the fighting. Ko’ila followed, having to run to keep up with him. Hadvar gasped and pressed himself against a wall, and Ko’ila soon did the same. The black dragon landed on the stone wall behind them, and its wing was so close, Ko’ila could have touched it. But she kept her paws to herself, and the dragon let loose another volley of flame. Once it had taken off, Ko’ila and Hadvar continued their mission to find the General.

It did not take long. They found him amidst a group of soldiers, calling orders to them. One of the men was wounded and seated on the ground, and another was propping him up. Hadvar began talking to General Tullius, but Ko’ila rushed for the wounded man. Tullius was not her general, and she could do as she chose. And in her mind, the wounded came first. The man’s eyes went wide as she began healing his injuries. Anyone who had been watching her also stared in shock. Right, they probably thought she was a house cat. And then she had revealed her magic without any explanation at all. But General Tullius had kept his focus on Hadvar.

“Get into the keep, soldier. We can’t take this thing down, we have to retreat.”

“Right. Come with me, Khajiit. To the keep!”

He began running in the direction of the keep. The General was gathering the rest of the soldiers, directing their plan of escape and giving orders to spread the call for retreat. Ko’ila ran after Hadvar, and they ran into the Nord and the Breton.

“Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!”

“We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time.”

“Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde. You!” He turned back to Ko’ila, “Come on, into the keep!”

Ko’ila and the Breton shared a glance. The girl was still frightened and confused, but already she felt safe in Ralof’s presence. Ko’ila vowed that whatever had happened between the two men in the past, she would not let either of them die here. The black dragon swooped down to pick up an archer on the wall, and dropped the man screaming in a long fall to his death. Ko’ila shuddered, and followed Hadvar into the keep. But she made a silent vow to herself as she descended into the darkness.

_Remember this day, dragon. For Ko’ila will not forget. ___


	2. Escape And Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ko’ila makes her escape from Helgen with Hadvar, and is asked to warn Whiterun of the danger. She finally gets her chance to explore Skyrim’s ruins when the Jarl’s court wizard asks her to locate an ancient artifact known as the Dragonstone.

The walls and ceiling shook as the dragon unleashed another hail of meteors on the ground of the burning Helgen above them. Hadvar threw himself to the ground, and Ko’ila flattened herself down until the shaking stopped. The image of the ceiling caving in and burying them alive would not leave her mind, and she hoped it wouldn’t happen. Being buried alive was definitely a not a way she’d prefer to go.

Once the rumbling subsided, Ko’ila cautiously got to her feet. Hadvar did the same, and he began searching the room for supplies. Ko’ila began looking as well. It seemed they were in a barracks of some kind, that much she could tell from the beds spread around the room and the weapons hung on the walls. Hadvar had pulled a shield from the wall, and began testing its weight as he sparred with an invisible enemy, making swings at the air with his sword and blocking nonexistent strikes. Ko’ila herself had no need of weapons, and even if she did, she could not use them. Her telekinesis spell was not capable of such precise movements with objects as heavy as weapons. Doorknobs, keys, and coins were the usual things she moved with the spell. Mostly doors, though. It was a little frustrating to be unable to enter buildings on her own here.

”You said you’re a mage, Khajiit? Do you know any magic that might help us here?”

”Ko’ila has multiple spells that may be of use. But if you mean for getting out of here, no. We’ll just have to find another way out, as you suggested.”

”All right. Let’s go, I think this door here connects to the passages further down, so there’s probably a back door somewhere.”

He pulled the lever to open the door, and Ko’ila was glad that he did. It was always better when there was someone with her to open doors. She could use her magic to do it, but it got annoying pretty quickly.

”Wait,” Hadvar put out an arm to warn her back, “Stormcloaks ahead. Maybe we can reason with them; we’re all trapped in here. I’d rather not fight them here if we can help it, none of use are in any condition for a battle down here.”

The voices she heard from the room ahead could have belonged to anyone, but she trusted Hadvar’s guess that they were the former Stormcloak prisoners. They had a different way of speaking than the Imperials’ more formal way of speaking with each other. They almost sounded as if they were speaking to each other like family or close friends instead just fellow soldiers.

When Ko’ila heard the Breton’s voice in the room, she turned to Hadvar, the beginnings of a plan already forming in her mind.

”Stay here, Hadvar. Ko’ila will go in and speak with them.”

”Are you out of your mind? We’re on opposite sides in the war, they’ll never listen if they know you’re with me.”

”Ko’ila is not on either of your sides. Khajiit is simply a fellow trapped soul down here, and they may listen to her if you stay here.”

After a moment of thinking over her words, Hadvar nodded.

”That seems reasonable. You are a civilian, and not affiliated with either side. You’re unknown to them, so they won’t see you as a threat.”

Ko’ila nodded to him, and stepped through the doorway. All eyes turned to look at her, most with surprise, and one pair with recognition.

”How in the name of Talos did a cat get in here?”

The soldier’s question was one she was used to hearing, and she had a guess of what would come next.

”Ko’ila is no cat,” she said, breaking the silence, “She is an Alfiq Khajiit from Elsweyr, and a mage. Do any of you know if there’s another way out of here?”

The only answer was silence as the men looked at each other, and back at her. She was used to the dumbfounded stares full of questions, as well as the judgmental looks some of the men wore. But the Breton girl’s eyes were full of wonder, and it was a welcome change for Ko’ila.

”I’m Kasya. From Winterhold, if you can believe it. I was born in Skyrim, although I understand why you would guess otherwise. Most people do.”

Ko’ila did not see much of a difference between humans. Yes, the girl’s silver hair stuck out among the brown- and blonde-haired Nords around her, and her blue eyes were just a bit brighter, but her frame was still that of a human. A little shorter, but not by much, and fairly slight, but still human. Ko’ila knew that there were four main races of human in Tamriel: the Bretons, the Redguards, the Imperials, and the Nords. But the differences blended in to each other. To Ko’ila, they were still all humans, and the minor differences were nothing to fret over. Ko’ila’s own people ranged in appearance from four-legged cats larger than horses, to only barely different in appearance from wood elves, and all were accepted among the Khajiit people.

 _Humans are strange,_ she decided.

”I never knew Khajiit could be full cats,” Kasya went on, “I’ve only seen the ones in the caravans, but I’ve never spoken to them. They don’t come by Winterhold often, and when they do, it’s only brief visits for supplies. Mother and Father don’t let me speak to them; they say the cat-folk are nothing but thieves, pickpockets, and drug dealers. But you are a mage, so I was right! You prove them wrong! I can’t wait to get back home and tell them.”

”I got robbed by a Khajiit on the road once,” one of the soldiers chimed in, “Your parents are right to be wary.”

Ko’ila sighed. She was used to this prejudice, and never held it against any who felt it. She knew her own people. Yes, some did resort to employing their talents for dishonest activities, but most were honest traders trying to get by in life. But she could hardly argue with everyone who judged her people. But to her surprise, Kasya jumped in again.

“Come on, Alvund. Just because some of the Khajiit are thieves, that doesn’t make all of them bad people. They’re just different, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” And then, in a lower, somber voice, she added, “I know what it feels like to be different. It’s not right to treat people harshly because of what some of them do.”

Another of the Nords stepped forward.

”She’s right,” he said, “our new friend here can help us. My name’s Ralof, from Riverwood. This is Alvund, Vidmar, Rorg, and Sidli.” He gestured to the other four Stormcloaks in the room, three men and one woman, who gave her a smile when they locked eyes. They all seemed to be Nords, although Ko’ila really couldn’t tell.

”Ko’ila thinks there may be a way out through the tunnels here. Now that her curiosity is sated, this one will continue to look around for supplies, and will find her own way out. Until our next meeting, if such is fated.;

She turned back to the door she came through, and back to Hadvar. She kept her ears perked up and focused on the direction of the conversation, which continued but seemed to fade after a while, accompanied by the sound of footsteps. The group had continued their escape.

”Very impressive, Ko’ila,” Hadvar said, “I was sure they’d follow you, or ask that you stay with them.”

”Ko’ila knew they would want to leave. Being trapped in a crumbling building would make no one anxious to stay with someone who wants to stay behind to look for trinkets.”

”I guess we’ll just have to follow behind them, at enough of a distance they won’t hear us. You have the tongue of a diplomat, Khajiit.

***

“Get down!”

Hadvar’s harsh whisper was not lost on Ko’ila, and she ducked down into the tall bush of blue wildflowers near the rock he hid behind. An echoing roar came from high above, and Ko’ila saw the massive black dragon soar overhead. Luckily, it took no notice of them, and continued its flight towards the mountain in the distance. Hadvar reluctantly stood back up, keeping his eyes on the retreating black form.

”Looks like it’s gone for good this time. Let’s hope it stays that way, I don’t think the Holds could stand against might like that. There must be someone who can help with this; someone has to know more. I’m headed back to my father’s home in Riverwood. You’re free to come with me if you like, or you can go your own way.”

”Ko’ila will follow you. She does not know this land, and will have need of directions. If you can guide her, this one would be most grateful.”

Hadvar nodded, and set off. The stone path was fairly easy to follow. Her eyes kept wandering to the silhouette of a ruined structure on the mountain, which Hadvar had told her was an old tomb called Bleak Falls Barrow. Her curiosity kept her wondering what secrets lay within its walls, and decided to venture up the mountain to explore it once she had gone to Riverwood. It would be good to get to know a few more people in Skyrim, since she planned to be here a while.

Hadvar’s father was Riverwood’s blacksmith, Alvor. Ko’ila found he was a generous man, and his wife was an amazing cook. The family treated her to a home-cooked meal, and she was happy to feel so welcome. Alvor’s wife even helped cut up the meal so it would be easier for her to eat. Although it was a little frustrating that their daughter thought she was a new pet upon first meeting her, and immediately picked her up for a cuddle.

“If you would, Ko’ila,” Alvor began, after the meal was over, “the Jarl of Whiterun needs to know there’s a dragon on the loose. You asked about the Barrow, and I hear Balgruuf’s court wizard has also been making inquiries into that place. Lucan the shopkeep over at the Riverwood Trader knows a bit more, but he was just robbed, so mind your words. If you decide to head to Whiterun, please tell the Jarl to send some soldiers here. If the dragon comes back here, we won’t be able to fight it off.”

“Of course. Ko’ila will ask the Jarl to send you help. This one will be on her way, but she thanks you for your hospitality, Alvor.”

“I hope we meet again, Ko’ila,” Hadvar said as she leapt down from the chair, “You’re one-of-a-kind, and I’d be glad to call you a friend.”

Ko’ila purred.

“Until we meet again, Hadvar. Khajiit wishes you well.”

She paid a visit to the Riverwood Trader first, and learned that the shopkeeper’s prized ornament, a golden dragon’s claw, had been stolen, and the thieves were hiding in the Barrow. Good, she could do something helpful as well as learn what she wanted. Lucan sold her a leather-bound journal and a spare inkwell, and she carefully put both through the opening of the satchel she wore on her back. Lucan had been confused as to how they fit in there with everything else she had pulled out to sell, and her explanation that it was magically enchanted to be as if it was bigger inside than out only confused the man more. 

Alvor pointed Ko’ila in the direction of Whiterun, and she was off. Following the road, she found it was easy to make her way to the city. The guards let her in once she explained the situation, but they were still a bit dismissive of her presence. They did believe her, but her sharp ears caught a comment behind her that she looked like a relative’s cat. She sighed, but held her head high, determined to project a confident image.

***

The Jarl’s court wizard, Farengar, was even more dismissive of her than the guards had been. He outright laughed when she and Balgruuf explained she would be helping him with his research. Even after demonstrating her skill with magic, he still looked at her as if she either smelled like rotten fish, or had stolen a sweet roll right off his plate. He clearly did not like her, but in the end he relented, and shared the basics of his project. And by basics, just the bare minimum.

“If you really are as capable as you say, retrieving the Dragonstone should be no trouble at all for you. Bring it back here once you’ve got it. Perhaps you should bring your new housecarl to carry it for you, your strength clearly isn’t in your muscles.”

That’s what he had said. Ko’ila felt a burning annoyance in the presence of this pompous mage, but held her tongue. She would get nowhere by insulting the Jarl’s court wizard in his presence. Best to have him regret his insult when she actually did show up with the Dragonstone.

So now she found herself in Bleak Falls Barrow, and by herself. She had met Lydia, the woman Balgruuf had assigned to her as a housecarl, but Ko’ila preferred to work alone when it came to research. She had a tendency to take a long time in deciphering the ancient carvings, and to explore every square inch of the ruin that she could squeeze into. And she could squeeze into quite a lot, so she could spend days in a historical site. She had done it in Elsweyr, and nothing would stop her from doing it here.

The musty scent that filled the place did not quite hide the scent of decay that marked the presence of corpses. She’d sifted through some of the burial urns, interested in what she’d find. And as she often found, Skyrim’s dead were often buried with treasure or items that must have been important to them in life. From this small section, she couldn’t find a way to tell a difference in the urns, so there was no way to tell just yet who was buried here. She grabbed a few of the coins, but put the rest back. From the tarnish on the gold, these urns must be thousands of years old!

She lit the torches and braziers on the walls as she went. Although she could see in the dark, having a good light source was essential to writing. Her ink-dipped claws scratched at the pages of the journal she’d bought, feverishly writing in her shorthand in Ta’agra, the Khajiiti language. Her native language. But even to another Khajiit, her notes would be hard to read. Her writing was often rushed and messy, and she abbreviated everything she could, both so she could fit more notes on each page, and so she could take faster notes in a time-rushed situation.

The bandits she’d fought in the beginning either fell to her magic or fled, and the dunmer who stole the claw had fallen prey to one of the Barrow’s many traps. A classic pressure plate trigger, and a spiked gate swung out of the wall. Easy to see, easy to avoid, as long as one is careful. But the man had been running, and hadn’t kept an eye on the ground. 

She was now examining the markings on the claw, and taking notes in her journal. The sound of scraping interrupted her. She had been so sure she was alone in this room. But as one of the corpses sat up from its burial ledge, she knew what she faced. The preserved bodies in the room were no longer lifeless corpses, and instead vengeful draugr!

She leapt into action just as the undead warrior’s greataxe swung down. She was much quicker than the creature, as its flesh and muscles were withered, and Ko’ila was incredibly light on her feet. 

Calling upon her magic, she leapt three times across the stone floor in a zigzag pattern, placing three fire runes on the ground behind her where her paws touched the ground. On the last rune, she leapt forward to the spiked grate trap, and latched onto it. Using the spikes like a staircase, she wove between them to perch on the top. Her fire runes exploded, and the now four draugr pursuing her went up in flames. Two of them fell, but the other two persistently advanced. One had a bow, and took aim at her.

Right. Now time for more direct tactics. She could try to bait them into the trap, but the one with the bow wouldn’t follow her. Even a single arrow could do large amounts of damage due to her small size, so she could not let herself get hit. 

As soon as the bowstring stretched back, she leapt from the top of the iron grate, and onto the sword-wielding draugr’s back. Digging in her claws, she clutched tight and curled in as the twang of a bowstring sounded, and the first draugr shot the second. Excellent.

The arrow in the draugr’s chest was hardly enough to slow it. But the fire had been extremely effective in taking out the other two, so Ko’ila believed that fire could very well be the key to this. She almost danced in between the sword-wielder’s legs, weaving herself in between its clumsy steps and taking swipes with her claws while she thought of a plan. She would have to take out the archer first, and for that she would have to get close.

Making up her mind, she repeated the trick she’d used to knock Haming to the ground. She launched herself at the draugr’s chest and ricocheted off towards the archer, sailing through the air with her claws out. Before she made contact with its face, she unleashed her flame spell into its eyes. It snarled and dropped its bow, now clawing at the flaming flesh of its face. Ko’ila angled herself to bounce off its shoulder, so she wouldn’t collide with the flames. She stood on her hind legs and brought her paws forward to unleash another flame spell. The withered flesh and ragged clothes caught fire like dry grass, and the flaming creature made a dash for the hallway, stepping right on the pressure plate as she’d hoped. The massive spiked gate swung, and the flaming draugr went flying, finally landing motionless on the ground as the flames consumed it.

The last draugr took another swing, and Ko’ila deftly sidestepped the blow. She knew she could not last long in close quarters combat, so she turned tail and retreated a few leaps away as soon as she got the chance. Another idea came to her, and she prepared a new spell. As soon as the draugr made another downward swing, she launched her magelight right into its face. With the glowing orb now stuck between its eyes, it swatted at the magic with one hand, making clumsy swings with the other. But its aim was way off, and Ko’ila was easily able to evade its attacks. She raised one paw to cast her flames spell, backpedaling with the other three as the draugr approached to continue its attack. 

She kept stepping backwards as it advanced, and its furious determination was its downfall. Soon, it collapsed to the ground, charred. Panting from all her dodging and magicka running low, she sat on the ground to survey the room.

Four corpses had come to life and attacked, so there must be some powerful magic at work here. Something powerful enough to not only sense the presence of an intruder, but also able to resist the effects of the passing of time. She’d never seen such well preserved bodies before in her life; it was simply incredible!. Inspecting one of the more intact corpses, she was able to see no trace of the magic that had animated it.  
  
The body had returned to the state of nothing more than a corpse. She made a note in her journal: in order to gain more insight into the magic at work, she would have to have another encounter with these undead creatures, and observe them more carefully.

Ko’ila was absolutely fascinated with this place. For this kind of magic to even be placed here, there must be something of importance in need of guarding. Some treasure lost to time, perhaps? Or the long-lost tomb of an important figure in Skyrim’s history? No one in Riverwood had told her details of who was buried here.

Whatever secret was buried here, whether it was only the Dragonstone she’d been sent to retrieve, or some other secret of history, she knew she wasn’t leaving here without an answer.


	3. Dragonblooded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a tense battle, Ko’ila retrieves the Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow. Upon returning it to Farengar, she learns a dragon is attacking a nearby watchtower. Determined to learn more about this dragon for herself, she decides to follow the Jarl’s Housecarl and the guards to the watchtower, and makes an astonishing discovery.

The chamber Ko’ila found herself in was larger than any other in the ancient crypt, and sounds within it echoed as if the ghosts of the dead were repeating them. The sound of running water from the waterfall at the back of the chamber was only one of the sounds amplified by the echo.

Ko’ila’s gasp at the sight of the ruined wall at the back of the room was loud enough to make her jump. Her footsteps were soundless and light, and she moved cautiously, but her excitement could hardly be contained. Large carvings could be seen on the structure in a strange language she’d never seen before. Was this the Dragonstone Farengar sent her here for?

She’d have to be careful; the large stone coffin in front of the wall could easily hold another draugr. They were easily awoken by sound, she’d discovered. So Ko’ila was careful to make her steps as light as possible as she approached.

The closer she got to the inscriptions, the more something within her cried out to get closer. It was like being tugged along on an invisible string, or like steel pulled to a magnet. Her curiosity now pulled her along too, whatever this was that was calling her, she’d never heard of anything like it.

Now nearly ten paces from the weathered stone, and her vision began to go blurry. But strangely, the feeling was not accompanied by panic. Something in her soul was jumping from excitement, and she felt no fear. But the cautious side of her kept one ear trained behind her at the stone coffin in case a draugr should break free.

Her paw reached out to touch the stone surface when she got close enough, and she could have sworn she heard eerie voices speaking in another language. But with her sharp hearing, she knew the sound was not a physical one. Her very soul was hearing this. And as she touched one of the lower words, a pulse of blue light nearly blinded her as something flowed into her. Something cold and tingly, a power that she could find no name for. Whatever it was, it felt incredible. This was  fascinating .

The sound of cracking stone and the loud thump of a coffin lid hitting the ground warned her that a draugr had indeed broke out of the sarcophagus behind her. Whirling around, she prepared for battle. It lunged at her with a greataxe, nearly faster than she could evade. By Alkosh, this thing was fast!

Nimbly dodging another strike, Ko’ila retreated a few paces away to prepare a fire rune spell. If it worked before it might work again. But before she could finish casting, the draugr swung its axe and cleaved a wound across her side, staining her blue scarf with red.

The strength behind the blow sent her flying backwards, tumbling through the air to crash into the ground. Drawing on her magicka, she began channeling her power into a healing spell to close the wound in her side. As the spell came to a halt, the draugr rushed forward again, greataxe raised as if to cleave her head from her shoulders.

Luckily for Ko’ila, she was light enough on her feet to sidestep the blow, but the metallic clang of the tarnished blade meeting the stone and seeing the cold metal embedded in the floor mere inches from the tips of her whiskers brought a chill up her spine.

With a wordless roar, the draugr yanked its weapon free from where it had been embedded, leaving a crack in the floor nearly as long as the length of Ko’ila’s back. She realized she would have to end this fight quickly, or this might be the death of her. She would tire long before the undead monster, and her speed was the only thing keeping her alive.

Calling on a strange power, the draugr let loose a roaring cry that manifested in a pulse of blue, and Ko’ila found herself flying backwards with the force of a whirlwind. Caught off guard by this display of magical power, Ko’ila stumbled from shock when she tried to get to her feet. That split second was all the time the draugr needed to rush at her for another blow. One that she would not have the time to dodge.

If she couldn’t dodge, she did have time to block. Channeling her magic into a strong ward, she managed to deflect the blow at the last second. The sharp edge of the axe blade was suspended only inches from her face, repelled only by a thin layer of glowing blue power. That was way too close.

As the draugr raised its axe for another swing, Ko’ila darted between its legs to run across the room at full tilt. As she ran, she placed a pair of fire runes in her wake for the draugr to stumble into. It ran into the first one, but jumped over the second rune while still on fire from the first. Interesting, this one was smart enough to  learn .

It unleashed its power again, this time facing upwards towards the rock overhead. It was trying to bring the ceiling down! The cracking of rock made Ko’ila wince, and she tensed up, preparing to leap to the side to avoid falling rocks.

The draugr used its magic cry again, and the ceiling began to rumble. A huge chunk of stone broke free, directly for her!

Ko’ila called on all of her power to use her telekinesis spell to halt the rock in the air. Grinning, she launched it straight at the draugr. Its decayed muscles were not enough to allow it to dodge the projectile, and the rock collided with the draugr’s chest with a sickening crunch. It flew backwards into the wall, landing with a thud against the rock.

Ko’ila’s mind gave her a plan; she might as well use the draugr’s own trick against it. She had no power in her own voice, but she had her magic. Sending a few lightning bolt spells into the cracked ceiling above, more chunks of rock came down to bury the draugr beneath their weight.

The room began to rumble and quake, and Ko’ila realized she hadn’t brought only part of the ceiling down. The whole room was going to collapse! And she hadn’t even found the Dragonstone.

But she could come back later to look for it, once the rocks settled. She couldn’t do anything more to find it if she was dead. Her legs sprung into action, and a series of leaps and bounds brought her to the rim of the draugr’s coffin. And as luck would have it, a small stone tablet covered in strange carvings lay at the bottom of the sarcophagus. The draugr must have been buried atop it, to guard it. This had to be the Dragonstone.

Stuffing it into her bag proved to be a challenge. The edges were too wide to fit through the opening, but it was too large for her to carry. But she didn’t have much time to find a solution, so she shoved one corner into the opening, and held the other side with her teeth.

It was awkward, but she managed. Bounding up the stone stairs, she came to a doorway that would bring her to a non-collapsing chamber. She cast a mournful look behind her at the stone wall before she left. She would have loved to stay longer to examine the carvings, but there was no time. Perhaps there were more of these structures in other ruins in Skyrim, if this one was destroyed. With the Dragonstone in her grasp, Ko’ila fled, leaving the main chamber of Bleak Falls Barrow to collapse behind her.

***

“Ko’ila has the Dragonstone you asked for, Farengar.”

She set the stone tablet on the ground before the wizard, sitting back on her haunches and curling her tail around her feet. She felt a smug expression cross her face when the court wizard went from mildly annoyed to utterly shocked.

“You got it? I’m a bit impressed, I didn’t think you would come back! The draugr there are nasty, and you’re so small...”

“Ko’ila is small, yes. But this one’s strength is in her mind, not her form.”

Farengar carefully brought the Dragonstone over to his work desk, where a woman clad in leather armor was waiting to examine it. She cast an appraising look over Ko’ila, and her eyes slid back to the stone after only a single dismissive second.

“My Jarl! There’s trouble! A dragon’s been sighted nearby!”

The voice of Irileth, Balgruuf’s dunmer housecarl, was loud enough for the whole hall to hear. Ko’ila’s ears perked up at this. A dragon, here? The opportunity of a lifetime, to see such a creature! When Farengar rushed towards the Jarl’s throne, Ko’ila followed just at his heels.

A guard stood before the Jarl, panting for breath. His voice, when he finally caught his breath enough to speak again, remained choppy with panic.

“A dragon, by the western watchtower. It was circling above us, we didn’t know if it would attack. We can’t fight it alone, we need more men...”

“You’ve done well,” the Jarl said, “Go get some food and rest. You’ve earned it. Irileth, take a detachment and go the watchtower. We need to learn something about what we’re dealing with, here.”

The woman saluted, and strode out of Dragonsreach rather quickly. The wizard Farengar was pleading with Balgruuf to let him go to study the dragon, but the Jarl would not let him. But Ko’ila was under no one’s orders, and she decided she would not be dissuaded from following Irileth.

“Khajiit, where are you going?”

Balgruuf’s voice made her freeze in her tracks. There was no anger in the question, just worry. Concern for his housecarl, his men, his Hold, and possibly her as well. She turned back to him.

“This one will see this dragon for herself. Do not worry for Khajiit, she can protect herself. If we deal with magic, your people will need someone with knowledge of magic. Ko’ila is not afraid.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t be, my friend. Divines watch over you, Ko’ila.”

She bowed her head in a respectful farewell, and strode for the doors of Dragonsreach. The doors opened for her telekinesis spell, and she tore after Irileth at a sprint. Nothing would stand between her and what she wanted to know, not even dragons. Particularly not her short legs.

***

The watchtower was a smoking ruin by the time Irileth and the guards reached it. There was no sign of the dragon anywhere, except for the destruction it had caused.

Irileth hadn’t been pleased that Ko’ila had decided to follow her. She was even less pleased in learning that the mage had followed them all the way to the watchtower before being noticed.

“Why are you here, cat? This place is dangerous, and no matter what skill I’m told you have with magic, there are many things you won’t be a match for. And you would make easy prey for a dragon. Go back to Dragonsreach. If you’re interested in the dragon, you can come with Farengar to examine the body if we manage to bring it down.”

“No. Ko’ila is not afraid, and her fate is not in your hands. If this one dies, then she dies. Ko’ila is no coward. She will stay.”

Irileth snorted, but said no more. The guards spread out, searching for survivors amidst the wreckage. Ko’ila turned to examine the broken wall along the side of the road. The massive claw marks gouged into the solid stone told of a powerful creature indeed. At least as large as a mammoth, and likely easily able to carry off a horse, this dragon must be nearly the size of the black one that had destroyed Helgen. If it were the same dragon...

“Here he comes! Make every arrow count!”

Ko’ila jumped, and looked up to the sky. Over the mountains, the distant beating of wings signaled the dragon’s approach. Its silhouette grew closer with every wingbeat, and its roar would be enough to strike fear into the heart of even the bravest warrior. But Ko’ila was no warrior, and her heart held a strange mix of fear and wonder. What a beautiful creature this embodiment of death was!

The dragon swooped down, and grabbed a guard in its talons to toss him against the tower wall. A harsh crack sounded, and he fell limp to the ground. Whether dead or unconscious, Ko’ila could not say. But as the dragon passed, she got a better look at it. Its scales were a light brown, and the eyes were a bright gold instead of the piercing red of the black dragon.

It swooped in for another strike, and Ko’ila gathered lightning in her paws to unleash in a purple bolt at the dragon’s retreating back. It roared as the power struck, and wheeled around in the air, opening its maw wide. Ko’ila knew what that meant.

“Get down!”

She tossed up a ward, and crouched low into the grass. The hot rush of fire and the smell of smoke made her eyes water, but her ward held. Some of the guards hadn’t gotten down in time, and were furiously trying to beat out the flames eating at them. The dragon whirled around for another attack.

Perhaps a bit of cold might do the trick. Ko’ila launched three ice spikes into the dragon’s wing, and it flailed in the air, trying to shake them off. The twang of bowstrings sounded as the guards and Irileth unleashed a hail of arrows against the dragon as it circled around. The spikes of ice in its wings were disrupting its flight pattern, and it had difficulty gaining altitude. Ice it was, then.

The chill in her paws made her shudder, but she intensified the cold into another ice spell. Although she was no ice mage, she had enough knowledge of ice magic to know how best to use what little she had. And if her spells could help bring the dragon down, she would give it all she had.

Ko’ila felt the edge of a blast of fire, too close to be comfortable. Her tail stung from the heat, but a quick healing spell repaired the damage. The dragon was covered in arrows, sticking out from between its scales and embedded in the softer parts of its body. But still it would not relent. Its pure fury was a burning light in its eyes, and meeting its gaze sent shivers down Ko’ila’s spine. Looking into the dragon’s eyes was like staring down her own death.

Another arrow struck true, piercing the dragon’s wing all the way through. And the other arrows embedded in the flesh gave way, and a sickening tearing sound and a spray of blood accompanied a roar of pain and fury as the dragon’s wing tore, and the creature spiraled to the ground.

The guards unsheathed their swords, and rushed at it with mighty battle cries. Irileth was at their lead, charging into danger to protect the people of Whiterun. Ko’ila stayed back, carefully launching ice spikes between the guards.

Something in her soul called to her, to battle with her claws and fangs like the dragon did. A strange battle fury was welling up in her, and she feared it. The dragon turned to stare right at her, at this pulsing fury in her soul, and its eyes widened in understanding.

“Dovahkiin...”

The word in the harsh tongue it spoke was like nothing Ko’ila had ever heard before. Before she could even speak, Irileth had driven her sword into the dragon’s eye, and it bellowed in pain. Its roar began to taper off to a whine, and it sunk to the ground. But it turned its head towards Ko’ila, a mix of fury and fear plain on its face.

The dragon breathed its last, and all present breathed their relief. Ko’ila stared in shock at the dragon. It had addressed her directly, and seemed to  fear her. What could a creature such as a dragon truly have to fear?

Her answer came as the dragon’s body was engulfed in a golden light. Her vision blurred, and then went white-gold as a rush of power flowed into her. Along with memories. Memories of flight, of battles long gone, and of waiting. Ages and ages of waiting. Waiting for the black dragon to return, so the dragons could reclaim what was theirs...

What was that ?

“You... you’re...  Dragonborn ...”

“What?”

Ko’ila’s vision cleared, and all the guards were staring at her with awe in their eyes. Irileth was the only one who wasn’t looking at her with that hopeful wonder, she was busy examining the dragon’s corpse to ensure it was really dead.

“In the time when dragons still ruled Skyrim, the Dragonborn was able to slay them and steal their powers. That’s what you did, isn’t it?”

Was it? Ko’ila wasn’t sure, but she felt as if the guard may be right. She definitely felt more powerful, and more...  free . Like the ties of the mortal world no longer held her down, and her power could only grow stronger.

“Try to Shout. That would prove whether you are Dragonborn.”

After he said it, the power she’d absorbed at Bleak Falls Barrow made sense. It was a word, and the knowledge this dragon held allowed her to tap into it. Drawing on the dragon’s knowledge of the power before they could fade, she felt something within her click into place, and she suddenly understood.

“Fus!”

The Shout was unlike anything she’d done before. It was exhilarating, a rush of power capable of knocking the guards backwards and off their feet. So  this was the power the draugr had used against her.

The guards began to talk amongst themselves, but Ko’ila wasn’t really listening. She knew nothing of Nordic legends, but now she found herself in the middle of one. What would it mean for her future, if she was Dragonborn? Surely power like this didn’t come without expectations of how she was to use it.

“All I see is someone who can kill a dragon, cat-sized though she is,” Irileth’s voice broke Ko’ila out of her thoughts, and the dunmer woman turned to address her, “You should go back to Whiterun, and tell Jarl Balgruuf that the dragon is dead. I’ll stay here, and make sure the area is safe, and there are no more dragons around.”

“Of course. Ko’ila will tell him.”

“Good. Don’t take too long.”

Ko’ila began to walk towards Whiterun, feeling her legs wobble under her. The shock of what had happened to her in the past two days was finally starting to sink in. First she had almost died in the complete destruction of an entire city, then she almost died in a draugr-infested tomb, and then a dragon had almost killed her. And now she learned she was a Dragonborn of legend. Could this day get any stranger?

The ground rumbled, and Ko’ila fell to the ground from the quake. The sky rattled, and an echoing cry came from above. Staring upwards in shock, Ko’ila recognized the word, although not the language. It was the same word the dragon had spoken to her before his death.

_ Dovahkiin. Ko’ila wonders what you meant by that, dragon. But it looks like this one is about to find out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this turned out well. I wrote a good chunk of this chapter in a 2-am rush of inspiration, but forgot to save it all when I finally crashed and fell asleep so I lost it all. And then I tried to write it again and it crashed on me. So, yeah, have this attempt at re-creating the actually good first version 2-am me made.


	4. Summoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ko’ila learns she had been called by the Greybeards to High Hrothgar, and learns a bit more about what being Dragonborn means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. Kind of a short chapter this time, my brain refuses to work with me and life keeps throwing stuff at me. I think I should be back on track for writing this because it gets interesting once the story picks up after the Greybeards.

The walk back to Whiterun felt like an eternity longer than the walk to the tower had been. For one, Ko’ila’s mind was filled with questions she didn’t understand. The discovery of a strange power she hadn’t even known she possessed, and some Nordic legend concerning one called Dragonborn... It all came together in a tangled knot of thoughts in her head. Maybe the Jarl could answer some of her questions.

But those questions immediately cleared up when she spotted a wagon hitched to a familiar dappled brown horse.

“Halven!”

She ran up alongside the cart, overjoyed that her first friend in Skyrim had survived the black dragon’s onslaught. His surprise was evident in his face, before he too grinned wildly.

“Ko’ila! I wasn’t sure if you made it out. When you didn’t come back, I started to worry. Ol’ Silky here bolted, and I couldn’t get her to turn back for the life of me. It’s good to see you in one piece. Are you still wanting a ride to Winterhold? I’ll count it as the same fare, and what do you say we go to the Bannered Mare for some supper? My treat.”

“This one thanks you, Halven. But Khajiit has some important business in Dragonsreach before she can depart. But this one will happily join you for dinner once she is done.”

“Dragonsreach, eh? I’ve heard the place was built to contain a dragon. Ever heard of King Olaf One-Eye and the dragon Numinex? A fine tale if I’ve ever heard one. Not that it’s any of my business, but I admit I’m a bit curious about what you’ve got with the Jarl. Not many travelers head up to the Cloud District.”

“This one also wants to ask if you heard that call from the mountains. Do you know what it means?”

“I did. That must have been the Greybeards. We haven’t heard from them in years, and now they summon the Dragonborn up to High Hrothgar. That, and the dragons? It’s the end times, like the old tales say! The return of the dragons means death for men.”

“This one does not know much of the stories of your people yet. End times?”

“When the World-Eater returns, the Last Dragonborn will rise to oppose him. Their battle will decide the fate of the world.”

The mention of the black dragon that burned down Helgen made a snarl tug at Ko’ila’s lips, but she fought it back. So many people dead, and for what? What had the dragon gained by such destruction? There had been no treasure to be stolen that could be worth the carnage wrought. The creature hadn’t even eaten any people or livestock, the bodies were left to burn amidst the rubble. Perhaps revenge? But what could a small village like Helgen have done to provoke such wrath?

“A dragon has attacked the Western Watchtower. The Jarl’s housecarl has asked this one to bring him news of what has happened. Ko’ila will tell you the whole story once she has delivered her message.”

“Of course. I’ll finish up my work here, and I’ll head over to the tavern for some food. If you’re still up for a meal after, my offer still stands.”

Ko’ila smiled at Halven, and bid him farewell. She was lost in anxious thoughts the whole trip back to Dragonsreach.   
  


***

“What news of the Western Watchtower, my friend? Is Irileth all right?”

“She is fine. She sent this one back to tell you that the dragon is dead. She and the others are staying behind to tend to the wounded and search the area.”

“I suppose that’s best. Thank you for your efforts, you’ve done us all a great service by helping to take the beast down.”

“This one does have some questions, if you don’t mind answering. That call from the mountains. You must have heard it, yes? A friend of Khajiit’s said it was the Greybeards, summoning the Dragonborn. Is this true?”

“It’s true. But who could they be calling?”

“This one thinks it may be her? After the dragon was slain, it looked at Khajiit, and said ‘Dovahkiin’. Then this one absorbed some kind of power from it. Your men said that means this one is Dragonborn.”

“So they were summoning you, then. You must answer their call, and go to High Hrothgar. The seven thousand steps begin near Ivarstead, it would be best to stay there.”

“This one thanks you, Jarl Balgruuf. Khajiit will answer their call.”

***

“I still can’t believe it. After all this time, the Dragonborn returns in my lifetime. I may live to see the making of a legend. And for the Dragonborn to not be a Nord, but a Khajiit, and an Alfiq at that. My brother will lose his mind when he hears.”

Ko’ila sat with Halven at the Bannered Mare, telling him about what she’d seen. He listened intently, are written on his face.

“And to think I would know the Dragonborn personally, because I have her a ride to Winterhold. My children would love to hear this.”

“Ko’ila would love to meet your family, before she climbs to High Hrothgar.”

“The kids would love you. The trip should only take a few hours going around the mountain, so you’re welcome to stay the night with us.”

”This one is nearly done eating. We leave for Ivarstead whenever you’re ready, Halven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ko’ila may be a genius sometimes, but other times she’s a complete moron. The golden claw thing completely slipped her mind, so yes, she is going to skip Riverwood. She’s probably going to study the claw and then go ‘wait wasn’t I supposed to do something with this?’


End file.
